#tommy almost chokes on his coffee and cannot stop laughing

[actual-changeling]

listen, @sentientmasstransit i saw your tags on the beautiful drawing of ellie with shimmer and then this just. came over me. and wouldn't budge the whole day. so here it is, hopefully i didn't commit any horse crimes.

-

living with ellie means joel has come to expect a lot of things when he gets his morning cup of coffee ranging from his girl asleep at the table to the time she had decided that six am was the perfect time to learn how to change a light bulb on her own, but being face to face with a horse is not one of them.

the coffee machine is happily gurgling away in the background, which means ellie must have already passed through and felt generous enough to turn it on for him, though she is nowhere to be seen now. joel recognizes it, which is something, and shimmer lets out a relaxed huff when he steps around her to grab a mug. he was not going to do this without caffeine.

during the five minutes it takes him to wait for the coffee to stop spluttering into the glass pot and burn his throat with half a cup that he hastily drinks down, the house continues to stay quiet, shimmer apparently happy to just doze next to the counters.

eventually, he calls out for her.

"ellie, why is shimmer in my kitchen?"

no response.

despite remnants sleep still clinging to him, joel feels the familiar anxiety squeeze his chest and speed up his heart, and he is about to go looking for her when she comes blustering down the stairs, backpack in hand.

"oh. hi, didn't hear you get up."

she glides around shimmer and puts her between them, going to grab two apples from the fruit bowl next to the fridge, and while he knows she has school, he is not about to let this one slide.

"ellie, there's a horse in my kitchen."

"yeah, i know. i put it there."

there is not enough coffee in the entire state of wyoming to get him through her teenage years intact. joel pinches the bridge of his nose and forces himself to take probably his deepest breath in the last month before looking back up at ellie, who is joyfully rocking back and forth on her feet without an ounce of guilt.

"i know i never said so, but i thought it was obvious that we do not bring our horses inside the house."

how she managed to fucking do that in the first place without waking him is a miracle he can figure out later, for now he just wants answers and to get shimmer back outside before she eats his granola. ellie shrugs her shoulders, one hand buried in her fur and gently carding through it.

"she was lonely, i haven't had much time lately with all the stupid homework they give us, and she missed me. so i brought her here last night and we slept in the living room. there's no rule against that."

joel desperately fights the smile hat is determined to settle on his face and fails, the corners of his lips ticking up just enough for ellie to notice, and he gracefully accepts the resignation settling into his bones when her face lights up with triumph. he knows how much ellie loves that horse, hell, he has had to peel her off the bottom of her box more times than he can count when she fell asleep reading, leaning against her legs, and the bond they have formed impresses even most of the regular stable workers. still. he could do without shimmer blocking half the kitchen and scratching their floors.

"just. get her out of here, please. and next time just put her in the backyard, new rule. no horses inside the house."

ellie's eyes gleam with something dangerous, and he quickly continues.

"no animals whatsoever."

her smile falls, but the sigh she lets out is humorous, and he helps her onto shimmer's bare back when it becomes obvious that she won't just act normal for once in her life and lead the horse outside. of course she has to ride it out through the front door. ellie bends down and joel presses a kiss to her cheek to send her off, and, really, how she manages to get through the door frame without getting stuck is beyond him.

joel settles back into his horse-free kitchen and refills his cup to the brim. he is going to have to talk to maria about some horse-related ground rules or next time shimmer might great him face to face first thing in the morning. knowing ellie, if there is anyone who could get a horse up the stairs, it's her.

[mykingdomforapen]

Decade of Fics 2010-2019

Hello! Since it is nearly 2020 and I am OLD, a look back on the fanfictions (and occasional non-fanfictions) I wrote in this decade, and some snippets of hints of scenes that come to my mind first when I think of that year of writing. In some ways, I would say these would be snippets or moments of writing that I feel most attached to. 

2010: One Step to Amity (Axis Powers Hetalia)

Alfred nodded wordlessly. She said nothing as she turned away from him and walked slowly down the river. She bent down after she put some distance between her and him. Alfred suddenly felt an urge inside of him to reach out to her.

"Vietnam—"" he started to say.

"Look, America," she suddenly spoke up. She was holding something pale in her hands. He frowned slightly before walking up to her and bending down next to her. Vietnam held up a mauve lotus to his eyes. It was so delicate that Alfred thought it would positively crumble if he merely exhaled at it. The petals were so fragile that it seemed that God had crafted it by merely painting with a thin brush in midair.

"During the war, most of these died," she said quietly. "From all the chemicals and the fires. I thought they would never grow back again. I thought all of that was just too much."

She offered the lotus to Alfred. He hesitated; what if it died in his hands? In the end, he finally let her gently place the flower in his palm. He could barely feel its weight, but the petals were smooth and wet on his skin. She lifted her eyes to his.

"But they did grow again," she said. "Even after all that, they still bloom. They always do in the end."

2011: Seven Pieces of Chalk (Axis Powers Hetalia)

“If I hadn’t missed your call and answered the phone, what would you have said to me?” Arthur demanded. “Would you have just hung up?”

“I don’t know.”

“You didn’t call me just because you felt like it. You should be asleep now, of all things. Why aren’t you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Something’s bothering you, right? Can’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know.”

Arthur quieted. Gilbert wouldn’t look at Arthur, hiding his face in the shadows. The moonlight reached only half of the room where Arthur sat, leaving Gilbert obscured in the darkness. Arthur sat still for a moment before reaching toward Gilbert’s cell phone, which was lying underneath his swivel chair.

“Hey.”

When Gilbert looked toward Arthur, Arthur tossed his phone to him. Gilbert quickly caught it, slightly confused. Arthur pulled out his own cell phone.

“Call me,” Arthur said sternly. Gilbert gave him a perplexed look. “Let’s get back to the start, about forty-five minutes. Call me, and we’ll pretend that I picked up my phone first.”

Gilbert almost declined. He would have too, if it was any other person—any other night than this one—but to both his surprise and Arthur’s, he flipped open the phone and pressed the dial button. As Arthur’s ringtone blared, Gilbert retreated deeper into the shadows. Arthur hesitated before picking up the phone.

“Hello?” Arthur said. Gilbert fixed his gaze on the carpet.

“Arthur?” Gilbert said.

2012:  Syrgja (Avengers/MCU)

And when no one spoke, when Natasha could think of Loki and Loki only, she remembered that all of their minds were connected alongside their lives. She heard each of their thoughts as they hoped, as they waited and prayed for Loki’s return.

Brother, come back to us, please—

Loki, you can do it, I know you can, just keep breathing—

Loki, you bastard, don’t give up on us now—

Keep fighting, Loki, just keep fighting and help will come—

Come on, Bambi, you’re stronger than this, you can do it—

She did not hesitate in thinking this—she did not care if the others heard, so long as Loki did. So long as Loki knew without a doubt.

I love you, Loki.

2013: spring will come (Thor/MCU)

“So I guess,” said Thor, “that scars heal in time, too. It’s kind of sad and beautiful, that no matter what life goes on.”

Jane reached over and put her hand on his. She felt every callous, every vein. She grazed her thumb over the knuckles.

“Are you cold?” said Thor. “Let’s have coffee.” 

2014: Jacob and Esau say their goodbyes (Thor/MCU)

"I said that I have no side," Loki says. "And yet I always find myself by Thor's."

2015: Though she may forget (Thor/MCU)

“You sat on Asgardian gold all your life,” Byleistr says, “where all the realms and races throw themselves at your feet because you are of AEsir family, your throne of riches and fortune, of safety and security, of approval and want—you never knew what it meant to be a Jotun, to fear for your life when someone of another realm comes across you, even when you are at in your own homeland, fearing they might cut you down for sport. You don’t know what it means when none of the realms will even look at you, because to them you are foul and savage and monstrous, and we can’t pull on costumes and masks like you can to pretend, for a moment at the very least, that we can walk out of our realm and not be killed.”

Byleistr wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Loki cannot bring himself to look at Byleistr in the eyes. He cannot bring himself to move much at all. Byleistr’s words have the same effect as the snow, the cold that Loki never admitted that he was unbothered by—numbing.

“You think you wish you were never born a Jotun,” Byleistr says. If an Asgardian’s eyes are red, it means they shall fill soon with tears. Loki realizes that with Jotun, when tears threaten to fall, they have a tinge of violet, as if even colors grow cold inside them. “You’ve never been Jotun in your life.”

2016: Better Than Seven Sons (Original Fiction)

I grabbed a fistful of his hair, right in the middle. Angus closed his eyes, and no one else really seemed to grasp that this was far more significant than an impulsive a-shave-a-quid moment but us two. I wanted to back out, suddenly—sorry, Angus, can’t do it, can’t bring myself to do it. I love your hair, Angus, I love recognising it, I love it because now it’s a symbol of pre-tumour, pre-surgery, pre-illness and from here on out we would be thrown into the uncertainty that comes with losing it and cutting open your skull. But you saw this differently, not a symbolic goodbye, but having the last laugh, and I needed to forget my own point of view.

“Count me down,” I said.

“Really now?” said Angus.

“Five!” I said.

“Four!” Others joined me. I thought someone would shake up a bottle of champagne for this, let out some firecrackers.

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

2017: a land flowing with milk and honey (Thor/MCU)

“You know who that is,” says Heimdall. “Even if he decides not to kill us all, enslaving us will be the kindest gesture.”

“Well,” says Loki. “That’s surviving, isn’t it?”

The ship jerks violently, and Heimdall and Loki stumble, clutching at the dashboard to keep on their feet. Loki turns sharply to Heimdall, who does not trust him, who has absolutely no reason to. He has just watched Loki shove Thor into a pod and sent him shuttling to Norns only know where, but he cannot read Loki’s mind or intentions.

“Don’t you trust Thor?” says Loki. In spite of everything, he smiles. “I do.”

2018: Lovable (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

“Do you really hate me, Azula?” Zuko said.

That sentence already made his stomach turn, and he could feel a lump form in his throat that threatened to choke him if he did not scream it out. He had to gather himself first before he could continue, although his breath still shook.

“For almost our entire lives,” said Zuko. “Even if you were just following Father’s example. Why did you still hurt me when he wasn’t watching?”

He clenched his teeth, because he was beginning to raise his voice already. Just remembering it and saying all of this out loud was like stabbing himself repeatedly in the gut. Azula did not react to any of it. And it was painful for Zuko to admit it to himself. He had thought maybe one day, they would talk about their past and their present. And for the first time he would finally tell her how unsafe he felt around her. And when he finally told the truth, that she would care. Maybe she would feel sad, or guilty, or even apologize to him, and then he could look at her without immediately getting upset for the first time.

But this was not what he came here for.

Zuko approached the bars and reached a hand through them. The bars caught him at his elbow, and his fingertips could only skim the ends of Azula’s hair strewn over the stone. He did not want to ask all of this from Azula anymore; whatever groveling, repentance, devastation and shame that he may have fantasized before. He did not want to wait for any of these, nor let it stop him from what shall come next.

“I love you, Azula,” Zuko said. “If I go, would you believe me?”

2019: Find me after the victory (Dunkirk/Arguably can be historical fiction)

So they sat on the floor of Peter’s bedroom, cups of tea in hand and a longing to be human as destroyers lined the beaches of England, ready to be boarded. They talked until the pot of tea cooled between them, about Peter’s school getting destroyed by the bombs, about Tommy’s sisters whom he missed, about Alex’s old London haunts that no one knew if they were still standing, about a home whose soil they walked on but was still miles and miles away.

“You’re all going back very soon, aren’t you?” Peter said after a brief pause, when they took a moment to collect their breaths. “Back to the mainland to fight.”

Tommy said nothing, but his gaze flickered towards Alex. Peter pressed his lips together, with a heaviness in his heart that he could not name. He suddenly remembered the last day of his brother’s last furlough, and how in hindsight he would comb over every detail of his brother’s day, the way he helped Dad with the ropes of the Moonstone and how Mum straightened his tie, and how he punched Peter lightly on the shoulder and told him to take care of Mum and Dad, and that Peter was free to borrow his books and football so long as he did not mess anything up in his room. They would have a football rematch when he returned, his brother promised.

Peter wished he could remember every quiet moment, seen and unseen, of his brother, if only he had known at the time that it would be the last. But to know God’s timing was too much for humans to bear, as Peter looked Tommy and Alex in the eye and be forced to accept that these boys with whom he reunited after four years might leave tomorrow and die.

“Don’t worry, Dawson,” Alex said. “We won’t let you down this time.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Peter said, and he did not know what else to say.

When the clock in the living room chimed, Alex and Tommy exchanged a heavy, knowing glance. Peter already knew before Tommy said that they ought to get going. They were not going to come round again tomorrow, and probably not for a very long time.

Peter felt a sudden, overwhelming desire to be a hundred meters tall, to sweep Tommy and Alex and all the other young soldiers that Peter knew and did not know into his arms and shield them from oncoming bombs and bullets. He wanted to die for each and every one of them, to protect them from further pain and devastation and keep them safe, but he was just a young man and that would be impossible. And if Peter remembered what Reverend James taught him, it was that someone else felt the same way already, and did just that.